A Joker and a Gymnast
by le-vrai-visqueux
Summary: Brianna Graiden was just a normal teenager in Gotham high. Then one day, the Joker decides to crash her Gymnastics competetion. Now, she can't escape the Joker's game. JokerxOC
1. A Joker and a Gymnast

**Disclaimer: I don't own this. Everything belongs to DC comics. The only characters i own are Brianna and company.**

"Next up, Brianna Graiden from Gotham High on the uneven bars!" The announcer called in a monotone voice.

"You're up Ryan!" My coach called to me. _Of course I know my name, idiot!_ I slipped the jacket off my pale shoulders and walked up to the bars.

Jumping up I started to swing to get some momentum going. Silently praying my hair would stay in place and I wouldn't slip off the bars. I started to go in full circles on the bar. _One, two, three, four, now switch!_ I sent myself flying onto the next bar. My momentum carrying me perfect. After swinging and switching for a few minutes I prepared for my exit. I placed both feet on the taller bar and back flipped off.

An earsplitting bang rang through the gym as my feet landed on the floor. Okay, I know I didn't get the landing perfectly, but I didn't slam my feet down! Another bang. The second bang brought me down from the clouds and into reality land. That was a gun shot.

Chaos had broken out in the gym. I backed to the bench, debating whether or not to join the chaos. Ever since the Joker had broken out of Arkham, yet again, everyone was on edge. A simple teen cat fight was suddenly the Joker's next plot. Actually, it had been surprising quiet for the past few weeks. Maybe this was his start. But hen again, why a couple of gymnastic teams and their fans? It was too low key for him. But since when was the Joker predictable? I got up from the bench and slipped on my jacket.

"Now-ah, don't leave on my account, toots!" I recognized that voice. The words carefully chosen and spoken which such deliberation only a madman would use.

Instead of replying I just walked faster. Maybe he would move onto another loner.

"Don't be like that-ah, sweetcheeks!" the Joker shouted behind me. I walked faster, desperate to get lost in the crowd. I could see the group of people rushing. Suddenly, I felt the cool of metal on my neck. The Joker's hand sat under my chin, holding it up while his knife rested on my neck. "Hiya! Toots!" the Joker's breath brushed my ears.

"Get the hell off me!" I all but growled. I struggled against his choking grip.

"Ah, got some fight in ya, I liiiiike it!" He chuckled as I froze. "Gimme a name!"

"Screw you!" Was all the reply I gave the freak.

"I, ah, don't think-ah, that's your name, dollface! So, what's your name?"

"None of your damn business!" I screamed.

"Uh, uh, uh! No screaming!" the Joker sang as he started to drag me across the gym. Could anyone have heard me scream?

"Drop the girl, Joker" A third voice entered the conversation. He sounded like he had been smoking a pack a day since birth.

The Joker swung around with me still in a vice-like grip, giving me a sense of confusion. I was forced to look straight ahead . . . at the one and only Batman. "I, ah, don't think so, Bats!" the Joker growled. He pushed the knife harder. I felt a small trickle of blood down my neck.

"Start picking on someone your own size," the Batman rasped.

"You mean you, Bats?" the Joker giggled, "Fine-ah!" He dragged the knife across my neck then dropped me. Black slowly started to surround the edges of by vision. This couldn't be over so soon. I knew I was going to die, but I couldn't help but wonder if he had really planned to kill me, just like that. No games. No toying. Just kill me. Probably not. That didn't seem like his style. But, who could tell with the Joker. I couldn't hold back any more, I gave way to the pool black.


	2. A Doctor and a Sister

I blinked. Everything was white: the walls, the bed, the door. Was this heaven? If it was I was going to get snow blind pretty quickly. Then sound started to process. "Bree, Bree baby? Are you waking up?" Why was my sister in heaven? If the Joker did anything to her, I swear to God I will haunt him to the grave! "Bree, are you okay?"

"Kate?" I muttered, "Why the hell are you in heaven?"

"Bree, sweetie, you're alive. You're in Gotham General hospital!" Kate cried.

"What?" I opened my eyes more and recognized the familiarity of the Gotham General. The TV was nailed down on the wall. A steady beep was driving me up the wall. I looked over at the EKG. "How long was I out?"

"6 days, why?"

"Wouldn't you be curious?" I continued my scan. There were cards and flowers covering just about every surface in my room. I never knew I was so popular."Who are all these from?"

"Your friends? Who else? I think there's a card here from mom and dad. And Gray and I have flowers somewhere." Kate went to scrambling about the room. _A card? _Leave it to my parents. It's probably not even signed. My parents were in Africa doing some research. Both my parents were anthropologists, meaning they were either somewhere around the world or at the office. I was basically raised by my sister or a nanny. "Where's Gray?" Gray was my sister fiancé.

"He's at work. He sends his love." Sometimes I swear Gray's just in the closet.

I fiddled around with my clear plug in my lip. "When can I get out of here?" I asked. I really wanted to go home.

"The doctor just has to examine you. He'll probably keep you over night, though."

"Ugh!" I hated hospitals. I hated everything about them. They were a sign of illness and death. You could never know if you would ever leave them. I didn't know if I would leave this one.

The doctor walked in. "Hello, Brianna. My name is Dr. Toman. So, are you feeling any pain?" On cue, I felt a massive pain in the back of my head.

"Just a killer headache."

"That's expectable, aspirin should do the trick. Follow the light with your eyes." He waved a small flashlight in front of my eyes.

"What happened? The Joker slit my throat; he didn't bash my head in!" I exclaimed.

Dr. Toman looked shocked at my free mention of the attack. "The cut was deep enough to need stitches, but not enough to kill you. What we were concerned with was how hard you hit the floor. When you passed out it wasn't due to blood loss, it was because of how hard you hit your head. Luckily you do not have a concussion, but we just want to make sure everything is in order," Dr. Toman explained. He tapped my knee with the mallet. I responded as I should. "Where were you born?"

"Gotham City," I replied monotone.

"What's your full name?"

"Don't make me?" I looked at Kate. She gave me the-just-do-it look. I sighed. "Brianna Marie Georgia Hannah Halliday Graiden." Why had my parents cursed me with both my grandma's names and my mother's full name?

"Okay, her factual memory is correct. Anything personal she should remember?" Dr. Toman looked over at Kate.

"What's your best friend's name?"

"Jackie? I don't have amnesia. I lived in California for three years with a nanny, I hate Brussels Sprouts, I have a crush on one of my friends exes, I've one state individuals for gymnastics for the past three years. Happy?"

"Has slight anger issues . . ." Dr. Toman muttered as he scribbled on his clipboard.

"I don't have anger issues!" I shouted.

"Can she go?" Kate asked the doctor.

"Yep. Come back if she shows any signs of head trauma, i.e. fainting, amnesia, migraines. I have recommended a psychiatri – "

"I'm not crazy!"

"- psychiatrist. With her experience with the Joker, she may need someone to vent to." With that Dr. Toman took out the IV and detached me from the EKG.

"Here are some clothes, Bree. I'm gonna go discharge you."

I got up and looked at the clothes my sister had grabbed for me. Jeans and a t-shirt. I looked at my image in the mirror. I was a wreck. My brown hair skidded in all directions. My gray eyes had dark bags underneath them. I didn't realize it, but at some point I had cried because I had gray outlines of mascara tracks down my cheeks. My lips were chapped from the prolonged use of the same lipstick. I took the brush my sister had gave me and tried to run it through the curls. My hand reached something. I reached behind my head to pull out the knot and found my hair tie. Figures it would get tangled into my hair.

Once my hair looked more like hair and less like a nest, I turned to my cheeks. I took some tissue paper and wet it. I sat there for a couple minutes with no luck. Giving up, I moved to the clothes. I badly wanted to take a shower, but I knew my sister was out there waiting for me. Throwing on the clothes I walked out of the room.

My sister sat on the bed chewing one of her perfectly manicured nails. "Ready?" I asked. My sister nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Uh, yeah! Let's go!"


	3. A Psychiatrist and a Gangsta

I looked around the brown office. There was no other word for it. Everything in the room was brown. The leather chairs, the desk, the paintings even had a touch of brown to them. The air was thick with the scent of cinnamon, adding to the uncomforting vibe the room was giving off. It had been a week from when I had been discharged. I hadn't planned on going to a psychiatrist, and Kate was standing by me, but I started to have nightmares. At first it was just simple reliving the event. But then they got more graphic and creative.

The worst was last night. I was watching the news and I was on it. Not as the anchor or the reporter. I had turned up dead on the street. They hadn't given my name; I was just another number to the death toll. Then the Joker's video of my death came on. I shuddered at the memory.

"Hello, Miss Graiden," a tall women walked into the room. She gave me a look that said, "No antics, I'm in charge here". I didn't look that delinquent-y, did I? I looked down at my neon blue skinny jeans and converse. Nope. Just normal me. "I am your counselor, Dr. Smiths." She smiled coldly and reached out her hand to shake mine.

"I really don't need to be – "

"Yes, you do," Dr. Smiths cut me off; she probably heard it all before, "you were having nightmares about your experience." She finished, matter-of-factly.

"Okay, then _doctor_ what do you want to ask me?" I folded my arms across my chest.

"I won't be standing for any of your '_gangster_' attitude," she put air quotes around the word, "What have your dreams been about?"

Gangster? How the hell was I a "gangster" half the "gangsters" at my school were idiots who run at the sight of a gun? "The Joker? It wasn't the Commissioner Gordon that attacked me?" _Let's see how long till she gives up on me?_

"Yes, I realize this," _I swear she just rolled her eyes at me!_ "Anything in particular?"

"Nope." I popped the "p" just to annoy her.

She sighed heavily. "I can't help you if you're not going to help your self."

"I don't need help, I'm perfectly fine."

"You've been having night terrors Brianna. People are worried about you."

"You're not one of them. Anyways, isn't it typical to have nightmares after traumatic events?"

"Yes, but not night terrors." Now this lady was using my last nerve as a trampoline. And she wasn't just jumping. She was flipping, sitting, and falling all over it.

"I'm not insane!" I got up and walked out; this so was not my scene.


	4. A Stalker and a Clownkid

I shut the door. "I'm home!" No answer. Weird, Gray always locked the door, and my sister would double and triple check the locks. Maybe, they were just in a hurry. I headed to our kitchen to scrounge up some dinner. I took out some left over pizza and threw it onto a plate. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a bright orange card folded up. Probably a note from Kate. _Since when did we have orange cardstock?_ I walked over and opened it. A small card fell out. Leaving the card for now, I looked at the paper. _"Can't wait till next time!_" Did I have a stalker? I looked down at the card that had fallen out: a Joker. I screamed and dropped the card. Picking up the paper and the card, I lit a match and burned them. Smiling as I watched the ashes run down the drain. Maybe, he would leave me alone.

I stalked away from the sink and the matches and returned to my pizza. Pulling my laptop to me, I tapped my fingers as I waited for it to buzz to life. Once the screen pulled up, I opened the internet. I returned to my pizza as the internet crawled open. Why would the Joker stalk me? More importantly, how did he get my address? I quickly logged onto MySpace. I smiled as I looked at my username. It had a lot of sentimental value. My boyfriend had joked around one night about how I was his cloud nine baby. I liked it, so it became my username, cloud9baby. We had broken up, but I liked the username. Part of me knew I looked clingy, but I liked it way too much to change it.

I glanced down to my notices. A message and a comment approval. Leaving the message behind for now, I turned to the comment approval. It was for one of my more sexy pictures. It wasn't like a porno pic, nothing like that. I had my sweater half off and I was straddling my chair. The comment read, "Hey, you ever thought of modeling? I'm willing to pay some big money for just a little more from your side. If you're willing to take me up, contact me, I'll hook up my PayPal to pay you." _Perv!_ I glanced down at the username: "ClownKid". Ugh! I went to block the user, but stopped. I could use the money. And what did it hurt? I checked to see if he was online. Yep. I messaged this "ClownKid", _So, how much exactly? I want half before the pic and half after_.

I tapped my fingers on the counter. The message popped up. I_'m thinking, 4, maybe $500, but the half before after only counts if they're sexy enough._ Grrr . . . This guy was a regular ass, but, I reminded myself, I needed the money. I typed, _Fine, send me the money via PayPal, when I get the money, I'll put them up and send you the password to the page, and I'll do a photo shoot right now._ With that I logged off. Grabbing my camera I went into my room.

After about ten minutes in my Hot Topic lingerie. I took my camera and got ready to upload the pictures. What the hell was I doing? My laptop dinged. It was an e-mail. _Hey, I gave u ur half, now where are the pictures. _How the hell does he have my email address? I quickly replied, _Srry, I had to do some chores._ Going onto my PayPal, I double checked the transaction. Then I uploaded the pictures to a new private page on MySpace. I messaged ClownKid, _Password's 112358_ Ten minutes later, he replied, _Fibonacci sequence, beauty and brains, I like it! I just transferred the other half and a bit more. BTW, love the red lace!_ Stupid perv! I walked out of my bedroom and saw an orange note taped to the front door. Not again!

I stared at my front door. Another note? I walked over. It was an envelope. Opening them my jaw dropped. There were pictures of me in my red lace underwear, but they weren't the ones I took. They were pictures from one angle, my bedroom window. Was "ClownBoy"? . . . I smacked my forehead, CLOWN!!! The Joker!!! On the last picture was a note, _So easy!_ I cried. It was the only thing I could do. Break down. Getting up, I trashed the pictures and the notes and double checked the bolts on the windows. Everything was locked, even the front door. I had sold him half naked pictures of myself. I shuddered and walked over to the computer. I blocked "ClownKid" from my MySpace. At least it was some form of defiance. If it really was the Joker, soon looking wouldn't be enough.

I locked myself in my room. No one was going to hurt me, I was safe. As long as I stayed in my room until Kate and Gray came home.


	5. A Date and a Dream

The phone rang, sending me out of my skin. I quickly looked at the caller ID: unknown. No way was I answering that. I had made one dumb mistake, I'm not making another. The phone beeped and the message began. "Hey, Ryan, I know you're probably on edge, it's me, Greg, from geom – "I squealed and picked up the phone.

Composing myself, "Hey, Greg, sorry, you show up as unknown on the caller ID. So what's up?"

"Uh, I was wondering if, we could, you know, hang out, sometime?" he was so cute when he was hesitating. Yeah, Greg was my bff's ex that I was crushing on.

"Sure!"

"Wouldn't Eve be mad though, you guys are best friends?"

"You're the one that asked me, and I said yes. She'll probably be annoyed though . . ." I trailed off. What would Eve think? Eve had been with me even when I went through my "emo" streak. "When are you thinking?" I asked, quickly pushing the thought from my mind.

"Tomorrow, eight-ish. I was thinking dinner and a movie?" he said brightly.

"Sounds good! See you at school!" I clicked the phone shut.

I collapsed on my bed and fell asleep with dreams of Greg. But the dream soon took a terrible turn. I was sitting with Greg on the boardwalk. He was leaning in, closer, closer, closer. I sighed and closed my eyes, getting ready for the kiss that I was sure would come. It never did.

I hurt a shout of pain and my eyes shot open. The Joker stood, holding the knife in Greg's mouth. "You wanna know how I got these scars, pretty boy?" He sneered, his voice sounded odd, "You see I had a girlfriend, like that belle over there. I was smiling and giggling with her at dinner one time, and her jealous ex comes over. 'Hey, you!' he shouted, 'that's my girl you're smiling all over right there!' And me, oh me, being the cocky kid I was, I said 'She's with me isn't she? It seems she's my girl now!' and I smirked. The guy whipped out is knife. 'What is that? Not smiling now, are you? Why so serious?' he asked. And then, he took the knife, and did this!" With that he carved Greg's face out. I cried out as the blood ran down his cheeks. Greg's screams melded into mine. "Bree! Bree!" he screamed! "Bree, wake UP!"

I jolted awake. "Bree, you were screaming? What happened?"

"Just a bad dream. I'm good."


	6. A Bff and Another Freaking Joker

"Brianna Marie Georgia Hannah Halliday Graiden! You missed the bus!! Get up NOW!!!" my sisters screaming isn't actually that scary when you think about it. It's when she gets real quiet that you should tremble in fear. That is why I didn't immediately respond. I began by first lifting my leg over the side of my bed. Then by rolling over. OUCH! Instead of falling the two or three feet from my bottom bunk, I fell down 5 ½ feet from my top bunk. Again, ouch. I hate Mondays.

I got up and looked around. Why hadn't I woken up to my alarm? I know I had stayed up late freaking out over the Joker, but that thing could wake up a Gray! I looked over to examine the clock. It was off. WTF! I could have sworn I turned it on! My door slammed open. "Brianna! Why are you sitting around? I have to be at work in 20 minutes! Unless you want to walk to school I suggest you get off your ass and get dressed!" I drowned my sister's screaming rant into background noise.

"Where's Gray?" I asked, shuffling through my closet for some jeans. He was usually home until noon.

"He got called into work early. They said they needed his opinion on a new product," my sister said, moving to help move me along.

Slipping on the jeans and AC/DC t-shirt I had grabbed at random, an orange card caught my eye. Not again! "Hey, I need to find my other converse; I'll be down in five." I know, I should have told her, but the police have enough to deal with. And this is my issue. I opened the card and looked at the writing, _You know, Cloud9, it's sexier to sleep in your birthday suit! Though I do love your school shorts!!! _Ew! He was watching me while I slept. I shuddered at the thought. "Freak," I muttered under my breath.

I grabbed my converse and ran downstairs. Where was my backpack? I set my shoes on the sofa and looked everywhere for my backpack. Of course it was in the last place I thought to look, by the front door. Inside the front pocket was another orange note, _Cloud9, thought you'd need this for things like, uh, school, though you may not need it for much longer. Ha, ha, ha!_ That confirmed my thoughts. This was never going to end.

I got into the car and slipped on my converse in the car. I knew I needed to tell my sister, but what should I say? I thought about the conversation in my head. Plan A "Kate, I'm being stalked." "Is this another one of your attention seeking things?" Plan B. "Kate, I'm getting these really weird notes." "From who, Bree?" "From the Joker . . ." I could here her snorting laughter in my mind.

"Bree, you know you need to get out of the car to go to school," my sister's voice yanked me from my thoughts. Without replying, I got out of the car quickly and ran into the school. Well, that idea was out the window. I walked steadily up the stairs to my locker. Was he going to kill me? Not yet probably. His games never seemed to end. I should really go to the police though, I thought as I opened my locker, But than that would be an act of surrendering, something I was definitely not used to. Surrendering means losing, and I never lost.

"Miss Graiden! Is there a reason you are in the halls during class?" a fake shrill voice shook me from my thoughts. I smiled warmly as I turned to face my best friend, Jackie Reynolds.

"Hey, Jackie! What's up?"

"Nothing much, what about you? Everyone's been saying you just got out of major surgery, that the joker almost killed you. So, what really happened?"

"He cut my neck. It was kinda deep so I have stitches. I was out for a few days, the doctor checked to see if I have head trauma and I have a bitch for a psychiatrist."

"Well, I could always be your doctor, Ryan!" We started to walk to class.

"Well, Dr. Reynolds, what would be your diagnosis?" I asked jokingly.

Jackie fixed her glasses a little and put a finger to her lips in mock thought. "I would have to say, free beer and dancing tonight at Kyle's house party."

"I don't know," I replied cautiously. The Joker's notes still had me worried, and I didn't want to meet him while I was drunk. And I needed to be in top fitness for the gymnastics

"Okay, you don't need to drink the beer, you can be our designated driver!" she said, thinking the latter was my only reason.

"I only have my permit." I was running out of excuses.

"I have a license. You're technically with a licensed driver!" She turned and led me to the bathroom.

"Fine," I folded my arms and sighed, "Why are you in the halls anyway?"

"Bathroom break! A girl's got to do what a girl's gotta do!" She grabbed out a tampon from her purse and went into a free stall. That's Jackie. No shame and beer. How the hell did Kyle get the beer anyhow? Maybe his brother or something . . .

"Come on, Ryan!" She grabbed my arm and led me to math class.

"Hey, I'll meet there; I gotta go get a drink." I needed to walk around a little bit. Everything was going by so fast. I guess I was lucky, I barely have any free time this week, so, no sitting home alone waiting to see if the Joker was gonna come up and murder me. I walked down to the water fountain and took a sip.

"Well, _hello beautiful!_" I whipped around. "Come on, Cloud9, you could at least say hi! I feel really bad about last time. Stupid Bats interrupted my fun!" He laughed, no giggled.

"Can't you just leave me be?" I flipped him off then started to walk to class.

"Aw, Cloud9, you're so rude! I've been watching you. You put up this fake, happy go lucky act, and then poof! It all goes away! I love magic acts!" He clapped his hands and bounced up and down. "You know I'm really good at disappearing acts!"

"Then why don't you disappear." My voice shook a little. This happy go lucky act was scaring me more than the demented knife thing.

"But that's boring. I HATE BORING!" I shrunk away. Unlike my sister he was scary when he yelled. He grabbed out his knife from hell knows where and walked toward me. He had an evil glint in his eye. "Cloud9, Cloud 9, Clou – "

"I have a name you know!"

"But I don't seem to know it, so it's Cloud9!"

"Just go fuck yourself!" I chose my words carefully. Something told me he would take my words literally in a situation like this.

"Okay, Cloud9, I'll go . . . at least for now! Catch ya later!" With that he opened the back door of the school and left. I sprinted to class. This never was going to end. 


	7. A Note and Changing

**A/N: This is kinda short. It's just a filler and it gives you a little look into Brianna's life. I didn't wanna just jump straight to the party! Don't worry Joker will be here very soon!**

"Nice of you to join us Miss Graiden," Mr. S said as I ran into class, slightly out of breath.

"I woke up late, sorry sir." Sitting down, I took out my notebook and pencil and tried to get on page with the rest of the class. I suddenly felt something hit the back of my head. I turned around to pick up the note. I looked at my name written in Jackie's bubby hand writing and turned to mouth, "What the hell?" when Mr. S walked over to my seat.

"Something wrong, Brianna?" he asked indifferently.

"Just trying to figure out what we're doing," I said equally cold.

"Then you'll ask me." With that he spun on the spot and continued his mindless lecture. I quickly unfolded the note to see. It read, _Wut happened? u were all out of breath. I thought u were just gonna go get a drink._ I scribbled my reply quickly, _I didn't wanna get in trouble for ditching. _I threw the note back to her and resumed my notes. As I bent over my notes, I could feel Jackie's disbelieving glare on my back. "What?" I mouthed to her. She just shook her head and stuffed the note in her backpack.

School had gone by as a giant blur. I barely remembered what happened in the social part and the school part didn't even reach me. My meeting with the Joker had thrown me onto survival mode. I was jumping at the slightest noise. My temper had gone from short to bipolar. Was the Joker really getting to me that bad? I stepped mindlessly into the locker room to change for gymnastics. The other girls were gossiping about really stupid pointless things. Didn't they see that my world was crumbling over? No. how could they? It's my mind that is crumbling not my body.

"Ooh, looks like Ryan is gaining some weight," one of the girls giggled.

"Ha, ha, ha, it's not like I've been bed ridden for the past few days. Nothing like that," I let the venom slide into my voice.

"Leave her be," Eve walked into the locker room. The pit of my stomach reminded me who I was seeing this weekend. She tossed her blonde hair back and hopped the bench to change next to me.

"Do you want a ride to the party after practice?" she asked me after she was changed.

"Sure," I mumbled. I was the only one who couldn't get her driver's license. I had failed the test several times because of parallel parking. It took me a while to realize you _weren't_ supposed to hit the trashcans. Oops.


	8. Ambulances and Beer

**A/N: Kinda long, but couldn't find a decent place to stop. Enjoy!**

* * *

I had never felt more out of place. Everyone was making complete idiots of themselves. They were all either completely wasted or high. I was neither and their stupidity never stopped freaking me out. People were dancing and playing weird games. On the couch across from me a couple was making out. I wondered silently if they even knew each other. I got up and walked away from the disturbing sight.

Jackie was no where to be seen. The moment we hit the party she was off talking to people she never even met and acting like she'd already had 5 or 6 drinks when she had had none. I saw Eve talking to a boy with her flirty face on. No going over there. Was anyone I knew here not flirting or making a fool of themselves? My feet carried me mindlessly to the bathroom where I was met by the sound of someone throwing up. Gross! I slipped out of the room trying not to gag. A hand slid around my waste. "What a shame, ya know? You guys have such . . . _promising_ futures and you're drinking like there's _no tomorrow!_" I tried to slip out of the Joker's grip.

"Get off me! I can't go four hours without hearing your fucking voice!" I growled.

"Now, Cloud9," he took out his knife and laid it against my cheek, "we don't want you getting, ah, hurt, now, do we? I suggest you watch the language." Really? My language? Asshole.

"What do you want from me?" I asked, completely resigned to the fact that, no matter how much I tired, he wasn't going to let me be.

"Why can't I check up on my little pet?" Pet? PET? I wanted to turn around and strangle him! Wipe that stupid grin off his face. I could almost feel it burning into me. He was fucking pleased at my predicament!

"There is no way in hell – "

"Ah-ta-ta, watch the language, Cloud9! And, yes, you are my pet," he paused for a second, " . . . and if you're planning on heading to the police, you'll become society's pet," he swirled his hands in the air, "It's really a lose-lose situation if you ask me!" Why the hell did anyone not see that I was being held captive by a madman? There was no way that I was the _only _sober person at the party! Maybe the Joker was sober . . . he always sounded high to me.

"Hey, should we call 911?" a voice floated in from down the hall. _Finally!_ Finally, someone noticed the Joker was here! But, why weren't they running? The Joker was freaking here! "Dude, she just needs to sleep it off!" Crap! It wasn't me; it was some idiot that was completely wasted.

"Poor kid, ya know, alcohol is really bad for you. You guys should quit the habit." He waved the knife at me like a parent would wane their finger at a child.

"Hey! I didn't have anything to drink!" Why was I explaining myself to him? Why did I care for his opinion of me? I felt like a three-year-old with my hand in the coolie jar that's why! I did not care! I did not give a damn!

"Sure you weren't!" Sarcasm dripped from his voice, "Well, see you at home, Cloud9!" He let go of my waist and I fell to the ground with a crash. I hadn't realized how much I had been leaning on him but I was. Thinking of Joker's parting words, sleeping over with Eve drunk was sounding better and better.

I got up and dusted myself off. "Ryan!" I turned towards my name. "Ryan, Jackie'spassedoutIdon'thavemycellandnoonewantstocall911!" Eve cried in one breath.

"Okay, repeat what you said, but slower and with more breaths," I said very slowly, like I was talking to a five-year-old. I had no clue what she was talking about.

"Jackie's passed out," she breathed, "I didn't bring my cell," her voice raised an octave and she was threatening tears, "and no one wants to call 911!" She burst into tears. Realization hit me like a bus. That idiot that had passed out was my best friend!

"It's okay! Take me to her, I have my cell," Why didn't she bring hers? We turned the corner and there was Jackie. It was not a pretty sight. She was passed out on the couch with a bucket underneath her. Vomit trailed down from when she'd thrown up. Io felt tears welling in my eyes. I choked them back and went to check her out. "Here, Eve, call 911. _Stay calm!_" I cautioned. Eve had ever the slightest tendency to freak out.

I checked Jackie's pulse. There. _Okay, Ryan, think back to first aid in health. When was that, 4 yrs ago? _(**A/N: Where I live health is in eighth grade, that's just an fyi!)** I screwed up my eyes to remember. _Oh, yeah! The ABC's!_ Wow that is really stupid sounding. _Okay, airway?_ I leaned over to see if she was choking on something. Grossest experience of my life! There. _Breathing?_ I looked at here chest. It was barely there. One second she would breathe barely, then ten or twelve seconds later she would breathe again. Eve's frantic voice was barely a buzz over the party and my concentration. So much for staying calm. _Okay, now circulation?_ I looked at her nail beds, not wanting to touch her lips. They were pale and blue-ish and her hands were ice cold. "Eve, tell them she's cold and she's not breathing right." I said monotone. Eve's voice was a buzz, but I could faintly make out what she was saying. I couldn't remember what I was supposed to do next.

"Ryan, what do you mean by 'not right'?"

"I mean she barely breathing and I can't for all holy hell tell when her next breath is!" I screamed at her. My best friend was dying, what else was I supposed to do? My situation was horrible! My best friend was dying, the Joker was on my tail and I was going to be in such deep shit if I make it through this. Wait, why the hell am I thinking about myself? I cried. It was the only reaction I could think of. Everything about this sucked. I sighed from relief when the sirens rang. I may be suffocating do to the deepness of the shit I was in, but Jackie was going to be safe . . . I hoped.


	9. Cafeteria and Bruises

**A/N: It gets a little violent in this chapter. No gore though, just violence. Thnx everyone for the reviews!**

I sat in the ER, I hadn't been there in a while (a very rare thing, if I must say) and it seemed like they had changed things. No one would tell me anything about Jackie. When I asked a nurse about it, she stared at me like I had sprout wings and antennas. I swear the people at the hospital are idiots. I grabbed a magazine from the table and started shifting through it. My thigh buzzed and I looked down to check the text_. Brianna Graiden, where the hell are you? _My sister. I quickly replied, _ER, Jackie got alcohol poisoning, tell u more l8r._

I looked around the crowded ER. Many of the people in there I recognized as people from the party, the patients, I stayed away from. A lady across the room was moaning and holding different parts of her body. A new patient walked in, clutching her wrist. The smell of blood hit me as she sat next to me. She looked me over for a second and then turned away. Ass! At least I wasn't the one who had slit her wrist. My throat felt dry and my stomach growled. I looked at the clock; one trip down to the cafeteria couldn't hurt? I walked over to the counter and asked where the cafeteria was and if it was open still. Without looking up from her computer she pointed down the hall. Taking that as a yes, I walked down the hall in search of the cafeteria.

Every door looked the same. There was a little sign that said what room it was, but I could barely read them. It was 3 am, and the only thing I could think of was food. A hunched over doctor passed me, and I took a deep breath to ask him. "Ah–" The doctor just pushed passed me. Rude much? I looked back at him, my mouth wide open. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but I swear I had seen his shoulders shake lightly. Like he was laughing? "Douche," I muttered and I went down to find my way down the hall. I decided to follow my nose. This was more successful than clumsily making my way. Since it was so late at night, I scored lucky and barely anyone was in there. I grabbed a plate of food, not really looking at what I was getting. "Ma'am, can I get a cup?" They were all out of cups.

"Sure, on –" the lady was cut off.

"I'll get it!" the voice from the back room sounded vaguely familiar, but at this time of night I couldn't really put my finger on it. The man first handed the lady my cup before turning to put the rest of the cups out.

"Here you go, sweetie," she held the cup out to me. I took it and filled it with some ice tea before turning to pay. I strolled easily to the nearest table and sat down. I started eating my food. I felt my mind drift off. Not to thoughts of my predicament and the trouble I would be in, but to dreamland. Everything faded in and out. My food was half done, but I ignored it. The only thing I wanted to do was put my head down and take a nice long nap. And I did.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

The first thing I noticed was the smell. Gasoline, sweat and a thick greasy smell. It wasn't pleasant to say the least. But whatever pillow I had was. It felt like memory foam but wasn't. It was kind of hard, but soft. It reminded me of when I would lay on my dad's lap when I was little. Wait a lap! That's what this was. I was too dazed to really care. I felt like I had been drugged. But who – Joker! Fuck! I went to push myself up but I felt a hand on my neck. "Shh, shh, it's okay," the voice I had come to hate murmured. Something clicked. That voice in the cafeteria! I felt the vomit rise: I had taken a cup from him. But I hadn't realized it was him at the time. No harm no foul? Wrong, there was harm; I was sitting in the lap of the Joker. I tried again to sit up, this time he let me, but kept an arm around my shoulders. He tapped the blunt end of his knife on my shoulder, warning me not to try anything. I rubbed my eyes and prepared to take in the appearance of his hide-out. But I wasn't there, or I didn't think I was.

I was on the street outside Gotham General. "What are you playing at, Joker?" I muttered. I rubbed my eyes. Everything was slightly blurred at the edges.

"I heard the sirens from your party and worried about my little _Coud9_," he had a look of mock innocence as he ruffled my hair with his free hand.

"What do you want from me?" I groaned; I definitely wasn't expecting an answer from me.

But I got one, "Clou9, Cloud9, Cloud9," his fake fatherly tone bothered me; "You just don't get it!" He threw his head back and cackled. I cringed at the sound. "I don't need a reason! More importantly I don't exactly _need a reason!_" He pulled me in tighter.

"Fucking freak!" I regretted it as he was instantly straddling me with his knife at my cheek.

"Wanna, ah, _repeat that_, Cloud9?" his voice raised an octave. He sounded like a boy in puberty. I smirked at the thought. He backhanded me across the face, wiping my smirk off easily. I raised a hand to cradle my cheek, but he grabbed my wrist. "I _said_, _'wanna repeat that'_" I quickly shook my head. I could feel the bruise forming on my wrist and tried to pull it away. He got off me, but didn't let go of my wrist. His other hand grabbed my right wrist. I tried and failed at pulling away a second time. I tried to bite back the tears forming in my eyes. "Aww, did the big, bad Joker, hurt the little girl?" his mock baby tone mad me twitch in anger. He took my wrists and shoved them into his left hand. With his right hand, he rubbed my face with the back of his gloved hand. I closed my eyes. With his knife right next to my temple, I knew one wrong move and my life could end. I whimpered slightly. The Joker smirked. I had lost. I wasn't fighting, I was cowering in fear. He had won. I looked him in the eyes looking for some hint of my fate, but only saw pure glee.

"What the hell!" I shouted. If he was just going to keep torturing me, might as well retain some dignity.

"Why, I don't know what you mean?" His grin grew.

I opened my mouth to speak, but a raspy voice came in from behind me. "Let the girl go, Joker." The Joker threw me into the street by my wrists, possibly breaking them. Without even pausing to assess my injuries, I ran. I ran as fast as I could home.

**A/N: Ok, that was my first attempt at angry Joker. how'd i do?**


	10. A Sprain and a Phonecall

**A/N: Sorry! Kinda short, Enjoy!**

I started to run. I prepped my hands for the flip, and jumped. When my hands mad contact with the mat I winced in pain and fell on my head. Just another bruise to add to the collection the Joker had given me last night. "Brianna! What happened!"

"Sorry, coach. I'm kinda out of it," I turned my wrist over in my hand.

"Out of it? _Out of it?_ You could have hurt yourself even worse than you already did! Let me see my wrist," Coach held out her hand for my wrist. I seized the opportunity to get something done about it. Coach took a wrap out from under the bench and seized my wrist again. Wrapping it up she told me to sit on the bench and watch. Instead of watching I zoned out. Last night, I could have sworn the Joker was going to kill me, but he didn't. I had caved, given up by showing fear, but he didn't kill me. I had thought I understood his twisted little game! The Joker was like that little annoying five-year-old who would constantly change the rules of a simple game to fit his needs. Except this game wasn't simple. They were playing with high stakes, a life: mine. If I won, I'd keep it, if I lost, it would be over. It was a very simple concept that I'd grasped rather quickly. The concept of the game that I was slowly starting to understand was that I could never win. More importantly, I hadn't a clue as to the rules. It was as if, right when I thought I'd lost, he'd thrown in another rule. Whatever that rule was I didn't understand and it worried me. My phone buzzed across the bench.

"Coach, I need to take this call! It's GCPD." I called across the gym. Why the hell was GCPD calling me. The Batman knew a little of the Joker's "games" with me. I cringed inwardly, but weren't they hunting him? I picked it up. "Hello?"

"Miss Graiden?" A very official sounding voice replied.

"Yes, how may I help you?"

"We normally deliver this news in person, but we were unable to reach you at home, and your sister wasn't at work so – "

"Spit it out officer!" I said playfully. What sort of news could he have that was worth than what was already going on in my life?

"You're soon to be brother-in-law was found dead in the street. We have reason to suspect the Joker. . . . . . . . Hello? Hello? Miss? Miss Graiden?" I didn't here him calling my name into the phone. This game the Joker was playing was all the more deadly. He was killing others, to bother me.

"Fah-breezy!" I vaguely heard my team's nickname for me. I was still lost in my horror.

"Ryan? What happened?' Eve shook my shoulders.

"He, he, he ki-ki, killed . . ." I faded out. I didn't want to admit it.

"Who killed who?" Eve shook me slightly.

"Joker." Was all I said.


	11. Swinging and Police

**A/N: Yay! I finally know where I wanna go with this! Yays for le-vrai-visqueux! **

**Warning: This has a Brave New World Spoiler (also not mine!). **

My hands shook as I reached for the keys. Why hadn't they been able to reach my sister? Surely they could have called her at work? I finally managed to open the doors. Tears leaked from my eyes. Everyone had been so worried. I was followed by calls of "Are you okay?" "Call me if you need someone!" I doubted any of them meant it. We may have been a team, but the phrase "keep your friends close and your enemies closer" applied perfectly to our group. Eve was the only one I believed. "I swear to God, the Joker will rue the day. He will be rested in six different pieces!" I smiled lightly. I couldn't imagine tiny Eve dismembering the Joker.

"Kate! I'm home! Do you need someone to talk to?" I called down the hall. I turned the corner into the main room and screamed. My sister was hanging from the stairwell. Her face had been carved and it had the joker's signature face paint. I was reminded sickly of the image of John's dead body at the end of Brave New World. Hung and slowly turning like a compass. I groped blindly for the phones. My tears intensifying! I had no one. Sure I had my friends, but, they wouldn't understand. They both lived pretty normal lives. About as normal as a teenager in Gotham could. I misdialed 911 several times before finally managing.

"911, what is your emergency?" the operator said stiffly.

"My sister," I sobbed, "She, she's dead! I think she's b-b-been . . . . mur-mur-d-d-ered!" I broke down into uncontrollable sobs. I know you're supposed to stay calm, but I couldn't. _My sister!_ She was as good as a mom to me. I hadn't been as close to Gray, so it hadn't hit me. But this? Seeing my sister's body spinning around on the stair well, it was just too much.

"Okay, ma'am, we have help on the way!" Almost on cue, I heard the sirens. I didn't know if it was for my house or not. I didn't really care, I just resumed my sobs.

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"Miss Graiden?" I looked up slowly from my spot next to the desk. "I'm Commissioner Gordon, we want ask you a few questions." He placed his hand comfortingly on my shoulder.

"What do you want to know?" I mumbled into my hands.

"Maybe somewhere more fit for questioning?" Without waiting for an answer he pulled me up. I followed him wordlessly. My sister! Dead! IT went through my mind, but I couldn't quite grasp it. He sat me down in an office. "Miss Graiden, do you have any idea as to why the Joker would target your sister, or maybe even you?"

I gulped, should I tell him? More importantly, would he believe me? "The J-joker's been st-stalking me," I stuttered out.

Gordon clasped his hands on the desk. "And you didn't mention this before, why?" He raised an eyebrow at him.

"I'd thought he would just stop," Gordon's eyebrow threatened to disappear into his hair; "I had ­_hoped_ it would stop. B-but . . . . . I don't know," I sighed heavily.

"May I ask what the instinces were," he seemed to understand. The Joker's words rung clear in my head, "If you're planning on heading to the police, you'll become society's pet." I cringed inwardly.

"Notes, he would show up where I was and, for lack of a better word, annoy me." It really was. He would scare me out of my wits, he would drive me to the edge of sanity push me off, then grab me by the back of my shirt. That insane freaky clown!

"Anything else?" he seemed to sense that I as holding the picture incident from him.

"After the first note. He paid me for pictures of myself. I swear I didn't know it was him at the time, but, now I know, everything makes sense!" I slammed my head back on his desk.

"Thanks, you've helped a great deal," he escorted me out of his office. I snorted. Help? Yep, for the news.


	12. A Plane and a Game

I walked quickly down the street. All I wanted to do was get home. Everyone. Dead. The only thing left was for CPS to come. Maybe I'll end up out of state. Yeah, that would be nice. But what about my parents? Would they come home? They can't do that. If they were anywhere near me in Gotham . . . no, I would never let that happen. That means foster care is out of the question. Could I get emancipated? Then I would be able to live without worrying about him targeting my parents! What about my friends. Oh my God! This is exactly what he wants. He wants me to be freaking out. Damn it! Suddenly, this game wasn't fun anymore. Not that it ever was, but now it's like everything had changed. Instead of just my life on the line, it was my family and friends. How was I gonna fix this?! When Gordon had offered me protection, I had denied it. There was now way I wasn't putting another life on the line for mine. It's better to have three deaths on my head than 30 or fifty. Ugh! I was as good as dead.

My phone rang. My parents. This was the conversation that I had been dreading. Wait! Africa with my parents was perfect!! Not even the Joker was that stubborn! I almost did a cartwheel right there! "Hello?" I tried not to let the excitement leak into my voice.

"Honey? You're okay! Thank God, I was so worried!"

"Yeah Mom, I'm okay! What did you need?" My mom was sobbing on the other end.

"Me . . . me and, and your dad . . . we're . . . we're coming home!" My mother choked out.

"No, don't! You guys are doing great! It'll be safer if I came to you!"

"Honey, no! Anthropology bores you, don't lye."

"No, really, I've missed you guys so much, and I wanna travel the world like you guys do. I've been getting into history and stuff! I really wanna go!" Lies! I could care less about history. "_Please!_" I added on for good measure.

My mom's voice became muffled. She was probably talking to my dad. It was going on for a while. I started to move. I was an open target for any creep standing on the street corner. My mother finally started talking again. "Okay, your dad think and I it'll be grand to have you here with us. Do you have the money to buy the ticket on you? We'll pay you back. Your dad and I will have to get you a tutor. We'll make an anthropologist out of you yet!"

"K, I'll go and bye the ticket now. Love you!"

"Love you too!" With that the phone clicked dead. I started off to go get the ticket. A hand snaked around my waist.

"So, you, ah, wanna leave? Am I really that bad? I thought we were having _fun_!" The Joker laughed. I brought my leg up and stamped on his foot as hard as I could. It would have been great if my foot had actually hit its mark. My foot scraped down his leg and he moved his foot just in time for me to land hard on the ground.

"SHIT!" His knife was on my throat inhumanly fast.

"Didn't we talk about your language? At-ta-ta! My hand just might, _slip!_" To emphasize his point he slid the flat end of the knife along my throat. It was light, but quick enough to make my throat burn from the friction. I had had it. He had ruined my life, and he's bothered with my language! I'll give him something to be bothered with! Taking my good hand, I scraped my nails down his arm. He giggled. GIGGLED! "So, feisty little thing are we?" He moved the knife up to my cheek. He brushed it down from my temple to my jaw line almost gently. It would have been seen as a gesture of compassion if it hadn't been with a knife. "I didn't know I, ah, affected you that way!" He giggled. I could almost hear him smirk.

I had nothing to lose. I screamed, "CREEP!!!! Go fuck yourself 'cause I sure as hell am not gonna!" With that, I wiggled around and punched him in the jaw. A word to the wise: Punching a sociopathic clown who has a knife is the dumbest decision you can make, maybe even your last. He used his forearm to propel me into the stone wall. I quickly turned my face to avoid the impact from breaking my nose. He took his left hand and pushed the side of my face into the wall.

"You know, I wouldn't really need your cooperation for that to you to,. Ah, how did you put it? Fuck me," he whispered in my ear. His right arm pressed harder into my back as he closed the distance between us.

"You wouldn't?" My words were muffled because of the wall.

"Would I?" He burst into a fit of giggles, loosening his grip slightly. I used the slack his arm had gave and sprinted. I didn't run into the street. That would give him easier access from all angles. I ran down the alley way. I grabbed onto the chain link fence and hurtled myself over it. Size was definitely to my advantage, though he had strength. Definitely strength. I dived under the dumpster for cover. Maybe he would give up after a while? "Oh, Cloud9 wants to play a game? Come out, come out wherever you are! I promise I won't hurt you . . . much!"

**A/N: duh, duh, duh, sorry, the timing felt perfect and my hands hurt. I have the next chapter partially done, but it's just not turning out the way I want it to, but it should be up pretty quickly!**


	13. A Fire Escape and a Fight

**A/N: really long chapter, but I love it! This was really fun to write. Tell me what you think **

**Warning: This chapter has some really colorful language. I know I haven't been that careful about the language, but this gets really fun, like a painting! **

I breathed lowly underneath the dumpster. If you had told me 2 weeks ago that I'd be underneath a dumpster hiding from the joker, I would have laughed my ass off and called you delusional. Now, nothing would surprise me. I cringed when I heard the sound of metal clanging. Had he knocked down a trashcan? "So, ah, Cloud9, I'm so _sorry _if I scared ya! I only wanted to . . . _plaaay!_" I didn't want to find out why he put so much emphasis on "play". "Fee-fi-fo-fum! I smell the blood of Cloud9Baby!" He giggled. I saw his feet as he passed by my hiding spot, my breath stopped. No, no, no! How ridiculous would I look. "Hmmmm . . . not here . . ." he leaned against the dumpster making it creak. "How could she have run!" he roared. I shoved my head down and covered my face with my hands. "Fine," he muttered, then he rose his voice to a shout, "oh, little Clou9! Ya, know, I wasn't gonna hurt you that badly, but now, ya know, you would have been better off if you just, ah, showed your face. Maybe if you, ah, do it now, I coooould let you off the hook. _But,_ that is a maybe! Come on Cloud9, have I ever bitten you?" No, but I wouldn't put it past you.

I watched as his feet moved away. Should I wait? From my cropped vision, I couldn't see much, but it looked like it was getting dark. That was when I felt the deciding factor. A small tickle on my leg. I lifted my foot to brush off whatever dirt it was, but it moved. My breath hitched as I scrambled out from under. I would take the Joker over cockroaches any day. I know it sounds insane, but, NO! They were creepy, unnatural, and gross! They carried so many different types of diseases, it was, UGH!!! **(A/N: Those are my exact feeling on cockroaches. Give me spiders, snakes, anything **_**but**_** cockroaches)**

"AH, so there's my Cloud9! You can _run _but you can't hide!" He cackled. This guy wasn't just off his rocker. He had took a grenade and blew the damn rocker to smithereens!

My feet took me without thought. I knew I needed to stop using pure adrenaline and start thinking, but it was harder than it looked. AT first I had thought my size advantage had given me a speed advantage but noooo! Whenever I'd look back, he was running behind. While I felt like I had run a marathon from all the adrenaline, he looked like he had walked all this way. I grabbed onto the adrenaline and put it to good use. I pushed myself a little faster. I finally had gained enough speed to run around a corner before him. I had a few moments to think of a plan. Left? No, more alleyway maze. Right? No, same reason. Up? I looked for a fire escape. Yep. I took a running leap at the escape, not wanting to bring it down for fear of noise, and caught it with my good hand. This was going to be hard with only one hand, but I'd have to do it.

I started out by using my elbow to keep my balance, shot my god hand up to a higher rung, and brought my feet up. But this was quickly abandoned when the Joker came into view. "I, ah, doubt you're that fast Cloud9. So, are we back to the hiding technique?" Did he think I was an idiot? Probably. Yes he did. Each rung sent a jolt pain through me as I put most of my weight on my sprained wrist. I winced, but refused to make a sound. Even the slightest creak from the escape sent me into survival mode. "Ollie ,Ollie oxen free! Come one! You should know the rules of this game Cloud9! Don't tell me you _never played hide and seek!_ I heard some trashcans clanging down as he knocked them down. Idiot. Look up! Up, you fool, UP! Wait, was I just urging the Joker on? Fuck! I shook my head and resumed my climb. "Aaaaaaaah! So, my little Cloud9 is also a monkey!" _Shit, shit, shit, damnit, fuck, shit, damnit, motherfuckin', bitch, ASS!!!_ I mentally screamed. The Joker was climbing at twice the speed I was. Lucky bitch! He didn't have the stupid wrist. Wait! He caused the damn thing! "Stupid asshole," I muttered and tried to double my speed.

Finally the top of the building came into view. I pulled myself up. Okay, I was on top of the building, now what? I had relied on the Joker not looking up for a longer time. Now I had two or three seconds, ten tops, to come up with a plan. "Hehehe, didn't think of what to do when you made it _up_ her did ya!" I spun around to face the Joker. I started to run but the Joker had his hand on my chin and his knife in my mouth. "Cloud9, you never cease to . . . what's the word?" he swung his hand around, grasping for some invisible idea " . . . _Amuse_ me." He spun me around to face him. " Ya see, first . . . _FIRST_ you gimme the silent treatment. Then, you are all tough!" He giggled. Maybe at the memory? "After that . . . oh, oh, oh, you suddenly became like everyone else," he raised his voice an octave higher "what do you want with me?'" he performed a crappy female imitation and pushed the blade deeper into my mouth "blah, blah BLAH!" He shouted the last "blah", "Last time . . . at the hospital," I winced when he tapped the corner of my mouth, "Instead of resignation, it was _fear! FEAR!_ You had amused me again. Ya see, usually . . . usually I can tell a person's reaction, but, you were an anomaly. See, see, I have a _thing_ with anomalies. They are closer to me. They are, ah, easier to break, and . . . This is definitely more important . . . they are funner to watch break!!!" He cackled.

"B-break?" I muttered through the knife in my mouth.

"Mmmhmmm!" He affirmed dreamily. Was he thinking? "Wanna know how I got these scars?" I shook my head furiously, making the knife dig deeper into my cheek. "Well, I'm, ah, gonna tell you anyways, you see, I had . . . I had this friend –"

"No one wants to hear your stories Joker!" the Joker was cut off as the Batman grabbed him around the neck from behind.

"But, Cloud9 does! Doesn't she?" He pushed the knife harder into my cheek. The tangy taste of my own blood sent my adrenaline pumping again. I couldn't continue relying on the Batman to save me. I needed to come up with a plan. Hopefully, a plan that landed me on a one-way flight to Kenya to be with my parents. I looked around. Nothing in reach. Maybe . . . No . . . it could . . . but then . . . whatever, I'll wing it!

"N-no!" I couldn't keep the fear out of my voice.

"It's me you want, Joker, leave the girl alone!"

"Batman," the Joker began. He spun around with me still in his arms. I sighed with relief when he took the knife out of my mouth and used it to wave at the Batman, "why does _everything_ have to be about you! You, you, YOU!" I cringed as re roared. "But, I guess if you want it to be about you." For the, I-don't-know-how-manyth time the joker threw me. I skidded two feet to the edge and flew off it. My arms flew out to grab something, anything. My hand caught onto a window sill. I jolted to a stop and my shoulder lurched out of socket. My hand let go out of the sill in reaction and I continued my plummet down. I jolted to a stop and looked up to see the Batman.

"Why the hell aren't you killing the damn Joker!" I shouted at him. Did he think I couldn't handle myself?

"Would you rather become a new addition to the many stains on the concrete?" he asked. I opened and closed my mouth a few times. How the hell was I supposed to react to that? He placed me on the ground. "Run, don't go home, he'll find out where you live." I was tempted to tell him he knows where I live, but decided against it. I took his advice and sprinted. I took out my and looked at my contacts. Who to call? Normally I would have called Jackie, but she's in the hospital, somewhere that I'd rather not stay the night at. Eve maybe? I grabbed pressed send and prayed she'd pick up.

"Hello?" a groggy voice asked.

"Eve? Eve, I need to crash at your place."

"Ryan, you always do this!" she half-shouted.

"Do what?" I just needed a place to crash.

"You _use_ me!"

"How the fuck do I use you!" I spoke calmly into the receiver. I know I should have been shouting, but that wasn't my thing. When I was pised, I got quiet, really quiet and that was what I was doing.

"You act all buddy-buddy, but you're never there when I need you. Then, you _expect_ me to help you, and then you walk all over me!"

"How do I walk all over you?" I muttered indignantly.

"Greg called me! I would have been just fine if you had called me, but, you don't and keep secrets from me!"

"Fuck you," I clicked the phone closed. What was I supposed to do? Go home. It was the only option left. My other friends were guys that I wouldn't put past being perverted. Definitely not what I needed right now! No where, but home.


	14. A Body and a Shaft

**A/N: My best friend brought to my attention all the different ways the title of this chapter could be taken. I swear it is not perverted . . . . much, normal Joker teasing. We had a blast coming up with jokes about this title. Most of them, if I wrote them down, would make me have to rate the story M. R&R, please and thank you!**

I fiddled with the lock on my door. I had all but forgotten my date with Greg! Stupid how petty your social life can seem when your life and the lives of others are at stake.

I flicked the switch but no light came. Whatever. Kate probably had forgotten to pay the bill. And now . . . my eyes started to tear up at the memory. I fumbled blindly around my house for a candle. My feet made contact with something semi soft and I tripped.

What the hell? I placed my ahnds on the object and pushed up. It was softer where I had put my hands. It couldn't . . . he wouldn't. I looked over to where the face would be, and there it was. My mouth opened and closed a few times in a never uttered scream. Eve's eyes stared sightlessly back at me. Dead.

"Like my, ah . . . _present?_ I heard the backend of your fight and I didn't like it. Not. One. Bit." This time I actually screamed. Somehow, I thought it was over. That the Batman would have gotten his sorry ass in jail. No such luck. Silent tears rolled down my face. I heard the Joker sit down next to me. He wrapped his arms around me. It would have been comforting had he not been a murdering psychopathic pyro. "Awwww, don't worry, it's all over now." He rubbed the back of his hand against my cheek and shushed me. "See, Mr. J's gonna bring Cloud9 home and then, _poof!_ It'll all go away!" I pushed weakly against his chest. I was through with his games.

"JUST STOP ALREADY!!!" I screamed. Slamming my fists into his chest.

"Ahhhh, nope!" he popped the "p" on "nope".

"Why me?!"

"Like I said before, CLuod9, I can't guess your reactions. You don't reacte to situations like normal people do. I wanna _break you_. I wanna crack the Cloud9 code."

"You've already broken me, Joker! You win, _okay!_ I have no where to turn to, and now I'm running! _Happy!_" I tried to get up so I could storm out, but he held me down.

"No, no, no! I don't need a blubbering mess! I need a pretty little Cloud9 who hates the world!"

"You're not gonna get that." I folded my arms across my chest.

"Oh, but you see, I will. I'm, ah, I'm a man of my _word_" He picked me up and hoisted me over his shoulder. I reacted instantaneously. I took my legs and pushed them over my head until I somersaulted down. Never underestimate a gymnast. I sprinted for dear life. I didn't know where I'd go if I escaped. Maybe the police? They could put me in witness protection or something. My feet carried me to the stairwell without thought. Locked. LOCKED!!! WTF!!! I immediately turned to head to the emergency lift. I didn't know if I had time to wait but, it didn't matter. I clicked the button. I heard it buzz to life. I rocked back and forth on my feet. "There you are toots! You really shouldn't wait for an elevator." My minds gears started turning overtime. I had seen it done in movies, but, that was with a stunt actor? No time, just do it. With that. I opened the emergency lift gates and threw my self at the lift. My hands groped out for something to grab. Anything. After what seemed like an eternity, my hands made contact with the wire that pulled the elevator up. Don't ask me what my plan was, because I don't know. My only thoughts were escape the Joker. I would think sensibly later.

My hands flurried up the wire. "You're such a _monkey_, Cloud9!" His cackle echoed eerily through the shaft.

"Just Leave me be!" I reached the opening to the roof stairwell. Okay, one huge swing. Taking a lesson from gymnastics, I focused all my attention on the ledge I needed to land on. One, two, - "Caught ya!" The joker's hand latched on my ankle. He cackled again, sending waves of fear over me. "Now, this little game of tag has been fun, but, Cluod9, we _really_ should be going. But you know, I am up for another type of game if you want to play" I could _hear_ his smirk and the wag of his eyebrows. I made a gagging noise and began my journey down. "Ya know, we _are_ on a tight schedule. WE should just _jump!_"

"You stupid suicidal CLOWN!!! There is no way – " He yanked my ankle. I hadn't noticed until that moment, but my hands were bloodied up and I slipped out easily. Down, the top of the lift was growing bigger and bigger, until _smack!_ I hit the top and was out like a light


	15. A Van and an Office

**A/N: Okay, who's awesome? Two chapters in one day! Wooo! I really need a life. Thanks for all the reviews and everyone that's added A Joker and a Gymnast! You guys rock! **

I wasn't dead. I wished I was, but we never get what we want. Every inch of me hurt and I could barely move. Voices echoed faintly in the background. I picked the Joker's high scratchy articulate voice immediately. My eyes bolted open and I screamed as I was thrown across the metal room. "Looks like Bats has caught onto our tail, Cloud9!" the Joker cackled, realizing I was awake. So we were in the van. I turned over then groaned from the pain. Again, I would have been better off dead. My head pulsed with pain and I didn't doubt that a few ribs were broken. I put my arms out to get up, but arms wouldn't hold me. By the way my head was pounding I was sure I had a concussion . . . . . . or twenty.

"What the hell did you do to me?" I growled.

"Now, now, don't you go blaming me!" he put his hands up in a "don't shoot" manor. "It was _you_ who decided to climb up. If you had just let me take you nicely we wouldn't have this problem."

"_Me, ME!!!!_ You're the one who yanked me off the wire!!! If _you_ had at least let me get up on the ledge!"

"Now I'm not . . . not one to be pessimistic, but you, ah, would've fallen anyways," I cringed painfully when he winked at me. The van swerved again and I was thrown for a second time.

"Crap. Can't you put me somewhere with a seatbelt?" I gasped in pain as the van turned a sharp right.

"Nope! Ya see, you're mine, now. And the boys up front have been living in near celibacy to work for me and you're not half bad lookin'," he smirked at me as we took a sharp left. "So, now, don't you go doin' anything stupid, Cloud9. You see, now you, "he pointed at the spot where I had just been sent from (we had swerved again), "_need _me." He cackled. I cried because he was right. The last thing I wanted was to be raped by these men. Half of me thought he was lying, but all of me didn't want to test the theory. Not only for the sake of my virginity, but for basic needs. He was the one to decide if and when I get food and water. He was the one to decide my sleeping conditions. Most importantly, he was the one to decide whether I lived or died.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

I sighed with relief when the van pulled to a stop. "Thank God," I muttered.

"Don't thank him quite yet. This time, I'm not carrying you." He chuckled. Dear Sweet Mother Mary, how was I supposed to do this? I put my hands out in front of me to get up. White hot pain. That was all I knew for the few seconds until my arms gave way. Plan B. I turned and reached up to grab onto something. Plan B was abandoned as soon as it begun. My arm felt like it had been ripped off. "Cloud9, you should be getting up. I, ah, don't have _all_ night."

"I-I can't," I mumbled.

"Ah, what was that?" he cupped his ear and leaned in.

"I can't!" I said strongly.

"Now, now, that's not how you ask for help now is it Cloud9?" he giggled my obvious defeat.

"Please, help me?" I groaned. Whatever you say, toots!" he reached out and yanked my arm to pull me up.

"WHAT THE HELL!!!!" I screamed at him as pain coursed through my body.

"What? I'm, ah, helping you up?" He cackled at his own joke.

Had I not been in more pain than I had in my whole life, I would have found it a reason to smile, but being the situation it was, it only proved to anger me even more. "What the hell! Damn it! I meant pick me up, drive me there, anything _but_ yank on my damn arm!" I cradled the arm that he had pulled.

"You didn't say that!" He turned his head and looked at me like I was five. Grrr.

"Just carry me, damn it," he gave me alook and I added, "_please?_" I put on a pouty face for good fortune.

I shrank away from his cackle, it never proved good for me. "You're funny when you want something," he moved in close o m face, "Keep it up." He grinned at me and then picked me up bridal style. "We're home!" he sang as he kicked open the front door. His had amused looks, probably from my situation, but they were quickly wiped off when their boss glared at them. "This," he bounced me, I gasped, "is mine! That means touch, and you will lose a body part I'm sure you all hold dearly." He smirked as the men put as much distance between them and me in a matter of seconds. I sighed relief. At least the Joker was going to be the only perv I had to worry about.

He half skipped up the stairs. I balled my hands into fists in frustration and quickly discovered another injury. I had known my hands had gotten bloodied up in the climb, but his was ridiculous. There were ridges in my hands, some were layered on each other, and some were just there. Every single one of them were still bleeding lightly. I threw my head back in annoyance. Not even my hands had been safe from my stunt. "Yeah, we'll have to get those fixed," he nodded toward my hands. We reached the third door on the landing and he kicked it open. "Welcome home, Cloud9," he giggled and I screamed. There was no way he was putting me in there.

It was a basic office at heart. It had the spotted carpet that every building in the world seemed to have. The walls were white and the corkboards had newspaper clippings on them. There was a desk and a desk chair in the middle of the room. He even had a couple filing cabinets. It was the little things that scared me. The walls and floors had red splattered all over them. The newspaper clippings all had sick red grins painted on the pictures. Grease paint covered the desk, both in and out of its bottle. In the far corner was a queen size mattress with no sheets on it. Even the bed had blood stains on it. The cabinets were beaten up and by the way the blood was splattered on it, had been used to hit someone's head against. I jumped as I felt the Joker's hot breath on my ear. "Welcome home."

**A/N: Long chapter, possibly my longest! I couldn't find a place to stop. R&R peoples!**


	16. Alcohol and Vicodin

The Joker laughed at my expression. "Come on! It's not _that_ bad." He grinned down at me. I struggled feebly for a few seconds then sat limply in his arms. He walked over to the mattress and threw me down on it. "I'll be back in few!" he said, ignoring my cries of pain. All hopes of escape fell as I looked at the boarded window and the Joker locked the door. Not that I could of run if I wanted to. My legs would probably give way halfway to the door. I shifted into a more comfortable position, moaning with the effort.

"I'm ba_ack_!" the Joker sang as he opened the door. In one hand he had a prescription bottle and gauze. In the other hand he held a bottle of water. "Catch!!!" he tossed the water bottle towards me. I watched it with blank eyes as it soared passed me and hit the wall behind me. "Ah, when someone who's trying to, ah, _help_ you . . . you, ah, listen to their, ORDERS!!" His demeanor changed instantly from angry and threatening to calm and giddy, "Sit up!" He grabbed my arm and yanked me up.

He ignored my cry of protest and handed me the water bottle and 5 of the little pills. "Isn't illegal to share prescriptions?" I asked as I examined the little white capsules.

"Ah, I think we've es-ta-blished my view on the law. Now take them." He looked at – no glared at – me. I shrunk away and palmed the pills. His hand shot out and grabbed the hands that the pills were still resting in. "_Take them_," he growled at me. I quickly took them and chased it down with the water. "See, eeeeeeasy wasn't it?" he giggled furiously at his own private joke.

"What were they exactly?" I looked at him warily.

"Vicodin." I groaned. Being a stunning 103 pounds, 5 Vicodin's did not make me the sanest person. One of them was bad enough. I watched the Joker as he unlocked the filing cabinet and took out . . . a bottle of alcohol? WTF? "Stand still, this'll just sting a _little_." Sudden realization hit me like a bus. I scrambled across the room. Ignoring the protests from my arms, legs and head. Obviously, because of my impairment, he beat me.

Within seconds I was on my back and he was straddling me. The pain was easing so I dared to squirm. When I felt the cold of his switchblade on my neck I froze. Expecting him to pour the alcohol on my hands. I screamed even louder when he poured it over my head. The source of my pounding headache had been a giant cut in my head. The Joker place his hand under my neck to lift my head up so he could wrap my head in the gauze. "See, easy, _right?_ Now gimme your hands." Without waiting for my reply he flipped me over to my stomach. This time I only whimpered when he poured the alcohol on my hands.

Why was he doing this for me? Couldn't he just let my blood congeal on its own? As if reading my thoughts he threw me over his shoulder and said, "Now, why would I just let you bleed to death?" He giggled as he threw me down onto the bed. Jumping down, he giggled again as I winced in pain.

"Still there? Five Vicodins on tiny gymnast? Shouldn't you be dead out?" I giggled at what he said. That was the exact opposite of how I was feeling. I started to actually laugh. Why would I be sleeping when I felt so . . . so . . . so _giddy!_ I started to full on cackle. Suddenly, everything sounded and looked funny. I had once heard a comic describe Vicodin-land. It was where everything was happy and none of your problems existed. I knew what he meant.

The Joker's face wasn't as scary when I was in this state. Actually, nothing was scary. The blood looks like someone was just a messy eater. I threw my hand over my mouth to muffle my giggles at this thought. For the first time in the few weeks that the joker had been stalking me, my mental fm radio began to work again. Paper Planes by M.I.A. was playing. I laughed at how perfectly it fit the Joker. It was like they had written it about him!

I started to dance to it. It had always been my favorite song, and the Joker wasn't gonna change that. The Joker! Where was he? I looked around the room and finding him in the exact place I found him in: on the bed. He looked slightly amused, but not much. He would be a better clown if he smiled. Maybe he would dance with? "Cummon! Dance with me!" I giggled as I put my hands out to him. If he was surprised by my actions, he didn't show it. He ignored my hands and pushed himself up.

"So, the, ah, the Vicodin worked?" he smirked as I started to pull him into a more open area. I giggled, Vicodin-land was _fun_! The Joker didn't _dance_, per say. He just grabbed my hips and let me dance. I spun my hips softly around and put my arms above my head. "You're, ah, more fun like this. You should really smile more." This felt kinda good, being here with him. In Vicodin-land, he wasn't the joker, he was just "some guy".

I started to grind my hips against him. In any sober person, the Joker's nails digging into their thighs, quite threateningly, would be a warning to stop. For me in happy Vidodin-land, this was encouragement. His nails dug even deeper, there was probably gonna be scars in the moring, but I didn't give a damn. I raised my arms and put them around his neck seductively, "Some, some, some-ah-some I murder" I sang quietly along to the music in my head. This seemed to be his cue, because the joker threw me off of him. My cut open head hitting the hard wall was enough to pull me back into reality-land. In reality-land, the Joker wasn't just some guy I had met in a club. He was a sociopathic clown, who didn't give a damn if he murdered me.

The Joker advanced on me. I brought my knees up to me and sat in the fetal position. Don't hurt me Don't hurt me Don't hurt me. I repeated, praying there was a God out there somewhere. "So are we sober and sane again?" he growled. He barred his switchblade at me. "Did you, ah, forget who I was? Or are you turned on by me?" He quirked an eyebrow at me, I cringed away. No, I didn't find him attractive! The thought of . . . . with him? Ew, ew, ew! I curled over my stomach as I felt him kick me. He repeated the action, again and again and again. The only thing I could do was scream. As I scrunched myself even more, he would find a new place to kick. I sighed in relief when he started to walk away.

I don't know if he had heard me or if he had planned it, but he ran back over and pulled me up by my dirt and blood stained collar. I winced as my bruised back slammed against the wall. The Vicodin still was working, but it didn't stop cuts and bruises from being irritated. I turned away from his hot, smelly breath. "Look at me," I refused to, "LOOK AT ME!" His roar scared me more than his breath disgusted me. He moved his hands to my cheeks and held me in place. Tears threatened to spill over. His knife tapped my temple. "Now . . . now I want you to know something. " I tried to turn away from his disgusting breath. "Stay, stay!" He scrabbled with my face again, the knife running down my cheek, not wuite making me bleed. "Ya know, ya know, I did enjoy that, I really did. But you don't start things like that. I don't . . . I DON'T like little girls trying to seduce me." The tears that had been threatening finally spilled over. I had been _high_! I felt like a child who the bully had blamed something on. Sleeping with the Joker was worse than boiling puppies in my book. "Aw, shh, shh," he rubbed my face with the back of his gloved hand. He dropped me on the floor and I fell into a ball on the floor. "Come on, Come on! Don't tell me after you're little . . . . . . . . . . . . . .show, that you can't even manage to walk across the room."

Deciding sleeping next to the Joker was better than humiliation I started to move toward the mattress. Though the Joker's beating had knocked me generally into sobriety, everything still had a rainbow edge. The Joker plopped down on the bed and pulled me down on top of him. "See, Cloud9, this I'll allow." I rolled my eyes and rolled off of him.

"But I won't. I'm generally clear-headed right now, and I don't have plans on being any closer than needed." I scooted across the mattress to the corner of the bed.

"Ah, but, it is required." His hand pulled me close to him and he kept it on my wait possessively. "You're mine now. Get it?" He squeezed my hip in warning. I understood it perfectly, "Don't try to run away because I'm right here." The Joker nuzzled into my back. His mood swings were going to give me whiplash.


	17. A Crop Top and Bellbottoms

**A/N: thnx Sugary Snicket for the advice! I'll try and get the accent better! Sorry it took me a while to get this up, I have the atention span of a goldfish so I was seeing if the other ideas floating in my head could go anywhere. Enjoy! Read and Review! **

I woke up with a pounding headache that had nothing to do wit my head wound. The Joker was no where to be seen, but the warmth from the spot beside me told me he had woken up not long ago. None of this really bothered me. I guess I had come to terms with my situation. The thing that bothered me was the fact that I couldn't remember much from last night. I remembered pain, definitely pain. I remembered running from the Joker. But not much after I got into the room. Wait! The Vicodin! Did I? No, I couldn't have. I didn't feel any pain, besides from the few story fall. But the Joker wouldn't have been kind and gentle if we had . . . no we hadn't. But what was with the new bruises? I probably pissed him off when I was . . . well, when I was high.

I groaned in annoyance when the door opened. "Morning, Cloud9!"

Should I ask him? "Last night, did we?"

"No . . . but, _you_ were _all_ . . . for it!!!" he giggled. I felt the blood rush into my cheeks. Had I tried to – to _seduce_ him? Dear God, what had I done last night? "Don't worry, toots! You're . . . . _virtue_ is safe and sound." Oh, how much I wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. "Get up and change," another friggin' mood swing. He was suddenly stern and clipped. Did I do something? I was suddenly choked by purple and green fabric. The Joker walked over to the chair and leaned back, waiting.

"Can – can you, like, turn around?" I motioned for him to turn around with my hands to emphasize my point.

"Nope," he popped the damn "p". Douche. I quickly threw off my t-shirt. Originally, I had wanted to get it done quickly, but the condition of my shirt shocked me. There were greenish and brownish stains, probably from the dumpster; black grease smears, the elevator. But the most disturbing image was the blood on it. The shirt didn't even look white anymore. It was mostly blood red. Cringing away from it, I threw it away from me and took a look at the shirt.

"No, NO!!!" I shouted when I saw what he had picked out. It was an acid green crop top. Now, normally, I was proud of my stomach. You're not a gymnast champion without being in good shape. But this! This looked like something you'd see at a strip club! The top had poufy sleeves that made it look all innocent, but it cut off right below the breast, like some Britney Spears shirt.

"Do I have to put it on you?" he quirked an eyebrow and folded his arms expectantly. I growled at him. Wait, did I just growl? No, I don't growl. Shit, I've been around freaks for too long. I threw on the shirt and turned to the pants. Semi bearable, kind of retro though. Purple, of course. I threw on the bellbottoms and place a hand on my hips.

"Happy now?" I growled.

"Not quite yet . . ." he seamed to be thinking. If he tried to put make up on me, I would shove it down his throat. Instead he grabbed a brush and threw it at me. It hit me on the side of my head and Iwinced. "You're supposed to . . . supposed to catch it, ya know."I rolled my eyes (it was becoming a habit now) and picked up the brush. I ran it through my hair a couple times and fixed my part.

"Now are you happy?" I grumbled.

"Uh, yes, actually," he smirked and threw some green, lacy pumps at me. This time I had the sense to duck. "Catch it!"

"How the hell am I supposed to catch it when you throw them at my head!" I shouted as I walked over to the shoes. I heard his shoulders shrug. I growled and rolled my eyes. "Where are we going anyways?"

"We're gonna pay our good friend _Mr. Wayne_," he used a bad English accent on "Mr. Wayne", it sounded really weird with his voice, "a nice little visit!" That's right! He's hosting a charity ball tonight. _Great_!


	18. A Ball and a Suicidal Man

**A/N: Really Short chapter. I have lots of ideas for the future, this was one of the,, but it ran kinda short! Enjoy and review!**

I walked beside the Joker on the way to Wayne's ballroom. I rolled my eyes. Bruce Wayne hosts charity balls, yet frivolously wastes money on – on _this_! Folding my arms I looked for a way out of the situation I was in. Behind me was a wall of clowns. God, I was never going to a circus again after this. Risking forward would be risking getting lost in the giant building and the Joker had a vice like grip on my waist. AS if sensing my futile attempts at planning, the Joker tapped his open switchblade on my hip. I shuddered away from the cold metal, but quickly stood up straight. No way in hell was I leaning _into_ the Joker. "Okay, Cloud9 . . . . run off . . . . I, ah, I . . . . you know your buddy Jackie? . . . . . I won't _even_ _let_ you at_tend_ the funeral!" He cackled, pushing the blade into my hip for emphasis. Like he needed any. He took out his gun and shot the two security guards. 'Easy, Peasy, lemon squeezy!" on "squeezy" he squeezed the fresh cut on my hip, forcing more blood to trickle down my hip. The Joker kicked down the door. "Ladies and gentleman! Ya know? I was . . . . I was thinking . . . . . _me and my_ . . . ._ squeeze need to announce it!_" he squeezed my hip again. Was that thing talking about me? I growled. He tapped his knife against my hip, "and I decided . . . . what, _better_ place than . . . ah, than Wayne's wonderful _ball_!" The Joker smirked down at me. I narrowed my eyes, what the hell was the clown playing at?

"Hey, isn't that the girl from Gotham times?" a brave, possibly suicidal, man stepped out from the crowd. A chorus of yeses and affirmative noises followed these comments. "She didn't go with you willingly!"

The Joker let go of my hip and his men moved closer to me. I watched as the clown prince stalked over to the suicidal man. Pinching the bridge of my nose in between my thumb and forefinger, I shook my head. "And, ah, sir . . . what makes _you _so sure she didn't come _willingly?_" Then it hit me like a city bus, he was trying to make it seem like I came willingly. That I had some creepy obsession with him! I let out a low growl. The. Clown. Will. Die.

"The-they sa-said – they s-said that –that – n-noises . . . an-and the-th-there was – there was blood . . . . . at her –at her apart-apartment. And – and a d-d-d-d-d-d-d-dead bod-bod—d-d-d-y," the man stuttered out. I rolled my eyes, thank you Captain Obvious!

"Can't I get fer-_eaky_ with my girlfriend?" I fought the urge to puke.

"B-bu, th-the – "

"B-bu, th-the!" the joker mimicked, "You mean the _girl?_ . . . . Yeah, she, ah, she walked _in_ on us." I bit back the tears threatening at Eve's memory. The last thing I had said to her was fuck you. I never thought that the next time I'd see her she'd be, she'd be – I couldn't even think the word. I huge slam sent me out of my trance. When had the batman come? How did he come? Then I realized, the clowns were preoccupied, this was my chance! Silently thanking God, I ran for the exit. "Not-ah, _so_ fffast." I sighed in frustration as the Joker lifted me over his shoulder. "Let's blow this joint, sweetcheeks!"


	19. A Punishment and a Voice

I growled as the Joker through me down onto the mattress. 'Now for your . . . _escape_ attempt." He stalked towards me. In return I attempted to back away to the corner, but the single Vicodin I had taken earlier was wearing out. "Oh ho, ho, hee, hee, ha! You though . . . . . . you thought that I was going to, ah . . . . let you off the _hook_?" He smiled. Not a "it's gonna be ok" or "that's funny" smile, more of a "I'm-ah gonna kill you", Chucky-like smile. I shrank as much as I could. He grabbed my chin in his hand. "I . . . _give you_ . . . all this!" He gestured with his free hand to piece of crap room. "And then . . . _you_, ah, you try to run away?"

"What the hell did you give me?! Pain? Loneliness? Thank you very much, you took everything away from me!" I threw my hands up in frustration. I could take pain and suffering, but him thinking he _helped me_? Did he know how close he was to – to , I don't know, but whatever he was close to, he was millimeters away from it! His animalistic growl took me from my mental rant.

"What . . .what were you before me?" His voice betrayed no emotion.

"What was I before you? _What was I before you?_ I was on my way to become an Olympic gymnast! I was with friends! _I was safe_! _I was free_!" I screamed.

"You were?" He looked at me like I was the one wearing clown make up and clashing suit.

"YES!!! Why the hell is it so hard to get through your skull! Just because you're an insane freak, doesn't mean we _sane_ people can't live exciting, successful, _legal_ lives!!!!" I hadn't noticed the joker's manner change in the midst of my rant. The sociopath was now hunched over angrily and his Glasgow smile portrayed just how much danger I was in.

"How . . . many times, do I have to tell you? I. Am. Not. A. Freak." He stepped closer to me. I felt the tears rolling down my face freely. "Before me? Before me . . . you - weren't - safe." He punctuated each word with a kick to my shoulder. "People . . . think I'm the . . . . only . . . . crazy out there." He kicked me in my side. "You walked home, _right_? What were . . . your chances of getting raped, kidnapped or mugged _every day_? . . . . and your, ah, your friends, how quickly did . . . what's-her-name–"

"EVE!!!" That outburst earned me a particularly hard kick in the stomach.

" - what's-her-name just . . . kicked you to the curb . . . didn't she, ah, think . . . you madeitup?"

"No, no, no . . ." I muttered through my tears.

"Yes, yes, yes!" he mimicked. "I, ah, I saved you . . . in a way!" I shook my head. Yes she had gotten angry with me, but not because of that. That was part of the reason but, she wouldn't think I lied to her. No, no, no, no! The Joker can't be right. A small voice in my head muttered to me, _Come on Bree, you know he's right. Don't deny it. Jackie was probably soon on the way. _I shook my head defiantly. _Come on, just accept it . . . . . . . . . . ._


End file.
